


until then we'll have to muddle through somehow

by abbeghoul



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, MAG 160 Spoilers, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbeghoul/pseuds/abbeghoul
Summary: Martin hadn’t realized it was Christmas. He supposed, if he’d had to think about it, hemighthave guessed it was December, but he hadn’t exactly been keeping track, even before the world had ended.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 10
Kudos: 121
Collections: Cowards Holiday Exchange 2019





	until then we'll have to muddle through somehow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alfie_aurel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfie_aurel/gifts).



> This was written for Theo in the Cowards Holiday Exchange!

_“‘Come out, English soldier; come out here to us.’ For some little time we were cautious, and did not even answer. Officers, fearing treachery, ordered the men to be silent. But up and down our line one heard the men answering that Christmas greeting from the enemy. How could we resist wishing each other a Merry Christmas, even though we might be at each other’s throats immediately afterwards? So we kept up a running conversation with the Germans, all the while our hands ready on our rifles. Blood and peace, enmity and fraternity—war’s most amazing paradox. The night wore on to dawn—a night made easier by songs from the German trenches, the pipings of piccolos and from our broad lines laughter and Christmas carols. Not a shot was fired.” –_ Private Frederick Heath on the Christmas Truce of 1914, in “The Story of the WWI Christmas Truce” by Mike Dash for _The Smithsonian Magazine_

* * *

Martin hadn’t realized it was Christmas. He supposed, if he’d had to think about it, he _might_ have guessed it was December, but he hadn’t exactly been keeping track, even before the world had ended. There wasn’t much frame of reference, isolated in a remote cabin in Scotland with no internet or signal on the television, so it’s easy to see why he was taken aback when, on one of his and Jon’s trips to the local store, which had somehow survived the increase in monsters, he saw Christmas crackers for sale.

“Excuse me,” Martin asked the clerk. “Um, what’s the date?”

The woman behind the counter didn’t bat an eye. “December 23rd.”

_December 23 rd._ Not only was it the holiday season, it was the day before Christmas Eve. He looked at the crackers again and sighed. He bit his lip, thinking of how much cash they had left in Daisy’s stash. It was far from empty, but he didn’t know how long they would have to ration it. Basira was supposed to connect with them every few months for supplies- statements, mostly, but also money and weapons. They hadn’t heard from her since October, and though they had plenty of resources for now- Martin did _not_ want to know where Daisy had gotten all that money, but that was far from the worst they’d found in their exploration of the house- that didn’t mean he should go around wasting it. But still.

Martin walked away from the counter towards the back of the store where Jon was picking up eggs. He looked up when Martin drew closer.

“I can finish up here, if you wanted to go look next door,” Martin suggested, knowing the lure of the library and a new book to fill his time might tempt Jon away.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there when I’m done.”

Jon smiled at him softly and handed him the carton of eggs, then stood on his toes to peck Martin on the cheek. “Okay, see you in a few,” he said, before heading out the door. Martin smiled fondly after him. As soon as the door closed, Martin straightened and gathered a few more items that weren’t _strictly_ on the shopping list, before returning to the front of the store and dropping them on the counter.

“How much are the Christmas crackers?”

* * *

“Martin, what are these?” Jon asked as they unpacked the bag of groceries on the counter. He was holding two sectioned tubes decorated with ribbon.

“Christmas crackers,” Martin said enthusiastically. “I thought- well, it _is_ December 23rd, so tomorrow is Christmas Eve-“

“Is it?”

“Yes, according to the woman at the shop, and I know-“

“We’re in the middle of an apocalypse-“

“-but really, I think taking one day off will be good for us.” He took a moment to look over at Jon. He looked hesitant and weary, but not, Martin noticed happily, angry or opposed. “Jon, we’ve been dealing with this nonstop for two months, and who knows how much longer we’ll have to put up with eyes surrounding us until we find a way to use what’s on the tapes. We deserve a break.”

“Martin,” Jon started, softly.

Martin knew what that Martin meant. It was the way Jon said his name when he was going to say something Martin wouldn’t like. It was soft, and loving, but also- comforting and worried. Martin wasn’t going to have any of it.

“Jon, please,” he said. “I already got everything we need, let’s just take _one_ day to be happy. There’s no immediate threat- no more than any other day. Daisy and the other hunters haven’t found us, Jonah is satisfied, none of the other avatars know where we are, so let’s just take this time to enjoy the holiday.”

Jon’s eyes softened. “You’re not religious,” he said petulantly.

Martin grinned. “Neither are you. Most of the world isn’t, I hear, now that there are fear gods running amuck. I hear Chrismtas is all secular now, anyways.”

Jon laughed softly and leaned in to place a soft kiss on Martin’s lips. “Okay.”

Martin smiled widely. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jon said. “On one condition: you’d better have gotten the ingredients for mince pies, or I don’t think you’ll be in a state to be celebrating _anything,_ ” he teased.

Martin laughed and reached in the bag, pulling out a jar of mincemeat. “Who do you think I am?”

* * *

“I never actually did Christmas crackers, you know,” Jon said the next day, stirring a bowl of flour and milk together. “My grandmother was never big on them, she thought they were loud and messy.”

“I never did either,” Martin confessed. He felt like his heart was going to melt in his chest, watching Jon cook. Over two months of living together and almost that much time _being_ together hadn’t managed to stop the way Jon could make Martin feel just by doing something simple like _cooking._ It made their secret apocalypse bunker feel like a home.

“Really?” Jon asked, surprise in his voice. “I would have figured you’d have been into every cheesy Christmas tradition. I _do_ remember that time you tried to start an ugly jumper contest in the office, you know.”

Martin was affronted. “It was a _regular Christmas jumper_ , and it was _not_ a contest, I merely suggested- Oh, shut up,” he cut himself off at the smile tugging Jon’s lips upwards that turned into a huff of laughter. “I _am_ into all the ‘cheesy Christmas traditions,’ but my mother wasn’t,” he explained, going for casual but failing as his voice caught in his throat. “She- well, she didn’t really celebrate anything, or at least not with me. I guess I know why, now, but I can’t go back in time and change the way I looked as a child, so-“

“You shouldn’t have to, she should have been there for you,” Jon interrupted fiercely.

Martin smiled sadly. “Maybe. But, I did watch a _ton_ of Christmas movies to make up for it, and once I got older I started buying myself sweaters, putting up decorations around my apartment, things like that.”

Jon was staring at him, and Martin couldn’t tell if he was staring at him as _Jon_ and trying to figure something out or staring at him as the Archivist and trying to figure something out. Either way, Martin’s throat caught at the idea of Jon saying anything pitying, but instead he just asked, “So, Christmas crackers and dinner? Is that your plan this year?”

Martin shrugged. “We don’t exactly have stockings or presents, and we can’t put up lights. I’m not sure any we found would even work anymore.”

“Huh,” Jon said, turning to look out the kitchen window. “There’s a lot of green outside. We are in rural Scotland, after all. I’m sure we could find something to use as decorations. And there’s a box of old VHS tapes in the cabinet next to the television. There might be a Christmas movie in there,” he suggested.

“ _Oh,_ ” Martin said, feeling heat behind his eyes. He willed his eyes not to cry, and stood up from the table, walking over to Jon. He took the bowl and spoon from Jon’s hands, ignoring his protests, and placed them on the counter, before turning back to Jon and cupping the side of his neck with one hand and holding his waist with the other, pulling him up for a kiss that lasted only minutes but felt so heavy it seemed to be lifetimes. Martin was so lucky to have Jon in his life. Even after everything they’d been through to get there, Martin was so grateful to have him- have this.

“I love you,” he whispered when they parted.

“I love you, too,” Jon said, breathlessly, turning pink. “If- if that’s the reaction I get every time I suggest we watch a shitty VHS tape that probably doesn’t even work-“

“It wasn’t that,” Martin laughed. “You’re right, the green from some of the bushes outside should work as decorations. I’m not saying we should bring a full tree in, or even enough for garland, but-“

“I think green would look great,” Jon smiled. “And- you were right, we do deserve this. I’m just my sight is good enough that I can remember all the old recipes my grandmother taught me- and that she made me do them so often I remember the process.”

“My stomach is _definitely_ be glad to hear that,” Martin laughed. “I’ll go grab my coat and the pliers from the shed and see what I can find outside.” He gave Jon another quick kiss, then moved to find decorations.

Outside, Martin snipped a few sprigs of leaves off one of the Scots pines, and noticed a patch of red out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see a rowan tree, still in bloom despite it being the middle of winter. The apocalypse must have messed with the weather patterns, because not only was it covered in leaves, but also bright red berries. He smiled and cut a sprig, tucking it into his pocket before heading back inside.

He set the pine leaves on the table, circling a plate that had been left sitting in the middle, and moved towards the living room, making sure he was out of Jon’s eyesight as he grabbed the tape and put up the final piece of decoration.

When he was done, he smiled, satisfied, and when to the cabinet next to the TV to see what movies Daisy had stored there. Mostly romance and drama, to his surprise. He scanned the shelves, and found what he was looking for: an old VHS copy of _Love Actually_ in a torn, worn down paper case.

He grabbed it and pulled, knocking the stack of movies onto the floor with a loud crash.

“Martin?” Jon called from the kitchen. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine! I just dropped a bunch of VHSs.”

“Are you sure?” Jon asked, coming into the doorway. He had flour on his face, and his brows were furrowed, but they smoothed over as he laughed when he saw the pile of tapes on the floor. “Ah, I see.”

“Shut up,” Martin groaned, then paused as he realized where Jon was standing, and what he was standing under. “Don’t move,” he told Jon, walking towards him.

“What?” Jon’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong? Oh god, it’s not another spider is it? You know- mmph!“ He was cut off as Martin’s mouth slammed into his and his arms wrapped around Jon’s waist. He wasted no time in responding, however, and curled his arms around Martin’s shoulders. When they parted, Jon was out of breath, and Martin was enchanted by the sight of him. “Wh- what was that for?”

Martin laughed. “It’s tradition, remember?” he said, pointing his head towards the sprig of leaves and berries he had taped above the doorway. It wasn’t a pretty decoration. The grey of the duct tape shone through the leaves, but it was perfect for their makeshift celebration. Jon laughed.

“ _Martin,_ that’s not even mistletoe, it’s-“

“ _Shhhh_ ,” Martin said, leaning in for another kiss. “It’s mistletoe.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Definitely mistletoe.” They were both smiling as they traded kisses until the oven beeped for the mince pies.

* * *

“If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around,” Martin said under his breath. Jon snorted but covered his mouth, trying to pass it off as a cough. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jon said, looking up at him from under Martin’s arm, where he was laying. “I just think it’s… _cute_ that you know all the lines to this movie.”

“Well, it is my favorite,” Martin said fondly. “I used to watch it every year and wish I had a dashing Colin Firth to chase me across the world and learn a new language just so he could talk to me.”

“Colin Firth, huh?” Jon said, teasingly. “Should I be jealous?”

“If I ever meet Colin Firth in real life? Absolutely, I will leave you for him in a second,” Martin said, deadpan. Jon grinned and nudged Martin before settling into his side again.

“I’m sorry we only have this old copy to watch this year.”

“That’s okay. Who needs to be able to watch all the scenes or see the entire screen?” he replied, pointing at the line of static running through the bottom of the image.

Jon laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

* * *

“Okay, so we’ve got pudding, mince pies, chicken, brandy butter, an assortment of fruits, and the Christmas crackers have been popped,” Martin said, pursing his lips not to laugh. Jon was having no such luck. The sight of Martin in a flimsy paper crown that was too small for his head but that he was insisting on wearing anyways was too adorable _not_ to laugh at. “Go ahead and laugh, mister, you should see how _you_ look.”

“I’m sure I look absolutely ridiculous.”

“You do.”

“I hope you’re happy. Are we missing anything?”

Martin thinks for a minute. “Music! We don’t have Christmas carols!”

Jon smiled. “Our radio is broken, but… if it means that much to you, I could sing one?” Martin’s eyes snapped towards him, wide open in shock. “Only one, I cannot be the center of attention, and you have to be doing something other than just staring at me. Set the table or something.”

Martin was not going to miss a golden opportunity to hear Jon sing, so he made a show of turning his back to Jon to grab the silverware from the counter to set the table.

From behind him, Jon started to sing softly, sweetly. “ _Have yourself a merry little Christmas,_ ” he crooned. “ _Let your heart be light. Next year all our troubles will be out of sight._ ” Martin paused in gathering the dishes, feeling tears well up as Jon sang. A little sad, a little sweet, and perfect.

“ _Faithful friends who are dear to us will be near to us once more._ ” Jon came up behind Martin to wrap his arms around his waist and rest his forehead on Martin’s shoulder. Martin knew he was thinking of Daisy, turned, and Basira, alone, and if they would ever see them again. “ _Someday soon we all will be together, if the fates allow. Until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow._ ” Martin brought his hands up to hold Jon’s as he finished the song. _“So have yourself a merry little Christmas now._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came from a) Theo's prompt and b) me realizing how sad and fitting the original lyrics to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas are
> 
> Recommended Listening: ["Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" by Judy Garland](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxxTHzERTsk)
> 
> Please know that the original lyrics to this song were "Next year all our loved ones will be miles away" and "Have yourself a merry little Christmas/ it may be your last/ next year we may all be living in the past" so you can be as sad about this song and these boys as I am.


End file.
